Rubbish, piffle, tommyrot, drivel and utter bilge

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Har De Har Harr

There is a clothing shop in town that is part of a chain of stores, named White Stuff. We went in the other day to have a bit of a mooch around and see what bargains could be found. While Laura went off in search of ladies' clothing, I went and had a chat with the nice lady behind the counter. (Actually, I was trying to schmooze a little because I would really love to do a podcast from inside that store. It's a very eclectic shop - it's in an old building that for many years was the town library, and dates from 1780. White Stuff has been in there for a couple of years now, and they have managed to keep it from looking too much like one of their high street stores. In the central area of the shop, along with the old floorboards and well-worn rugs, are a couple of beat-up old leather armchairs in front of an old fireplace. Would that not be a cool place to do a show? However, the lady said that (a) they don't have wi-fi and (b) I'd have to run the idea by their head office to get approval. Believe me, it's on my to-do list.)

While waiting for Laura, I noticed that the strategically placed men's underwear display was nearby, and that they were on sale (£9 instead of £17.50 - I don't mind if I do). First thing I must say about these is the packaging, which made me chuckle.

Now, as you can see, the waistband says WHITE STUFF on these. Much like you might get ones that say CALVIN KLEIN

When, later that evening, we'd got home, had food, put Rosie to bed and everyone had had their bath or shower, I showered myself and decided to recline in the crisp fresh sheets of the bed in my brand new undies. My opinion - they are nice undies. Very comfy. So I lay there on the mattress wearing nothing but. (Please, try to control yourselves, ladies). Laura walks in and says,

 "You've got White Stuff on your pants."

And I looked.

Everyone wants to be a comedian.

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